Intrigue
by Shipperwolf
Summary: A visit to the infirmary for Michael means facing Sara for the last time before the breakout. And to face Sara, he must face his feelings. Season 1 fic, mature content in later chaps!
1. Chapter 1

here is yet another fic written in mid-season 1. i've been putting off posting it here because it has several chaps, and i have to convert all of them to wordpad in order to post on this site, and, well...i'm lazy. but now i've gotten to it! enjoy, plz R&R!!

i do not own Prison Break or any of its affiliates.

--Nik

* * *

He was sure Sucre thought he was asleep--he certainly LOOKED dead to the world. Michael lay in his bunk, unmoving, staring at the backs of his eyelids. He looked asleep, but he was far from it.

Today was the day. Tonight they would make their escape, and Lincoln would be fine. Safe. Alive. Everything was to go off without a hitch.

Michael was confident about it. But there was still one thing that bothered him. For the first time in awhile, he actually had time to think about it.

It wouldn't be long before his appointment with Dr. Tancredi.

His last appointment.

He thought about her often, when he wasn't thinking about the plan. Now, lying there in a silent cell, his thoughts of her seemed to consume him.

She was intriguing. He had never met a woman like her before, and he wasn't entirely sure what it was that made her stick out among the women he'd known throughout his life.

Michael was still relatively young, in his early 30s, but he'd had his share of relationships. Women loved him. He still had no clue why. Lincoln always said girls found his silent demeanor attractive.

"They dig the strong, silent type. Don't you watch movies?"

Whatever the reason, he'd courted many a girl since the age of 13. Even then they had gushed.

Only a few had lasted past one month, and among those only two had lasted past eight or ten.

He'd loved a few of them, but most of the time, it was they who ended the relationship. They all either found interest in another or realized they really didn't like the strong, silent type as much as they originally thought. That was fine with him.

Only one woman had made him consider a permanent commitment, and she'd left him two years ago, claiming he was "distancing himself" from her.

Actually, he was. He was too busy coming up with the plan to get Lincoln out of Fox River.

Out of all the women he'd known, Sara Tancredi was the first to completely get his attention. She was the first to distract his thoughts, plague his mind, enter his dreams.

And he wasn't even dating her. The had no relationship to speak of, other than that of a doctor and her patient.

Of course, it didn't take him long to start wishing that they had something more.

The thought startled him. Sure he'd flirted with her, made sly insinuations about them, and even made gestures of kindness and caring towards her-hell, he'd saved her from being raped out of her mind by a bunch of horny cons.

But to wish wholeheartedly that they could be together was something he hadn't expected to feel.

Michael suddenly felt sick. His stomach tightened, and a slow fear crept over him. Any minute now he would be face to face with her.

For the last time.

She was different. She made him dread saying goodbye to her. What was worse, was that she would never know he was saying goodbye. To her, this appointment would be just like any other.

And to him, it would be a moment in his life he would want to wish away.

There was a slight hope of seeing her again, outside of the prison.

After proving Lincoln's innocence, he could find her, and explain himself.

And she would probably tell him to never come near her again.

"Scofield! Wake up and get moving, it's shot time!"

Michael's eyes shot open at Bellick's voice.

This was going to suck.


	2. Chapter 2

chappy 2!! warning: AU in future chaps due to the time this fic was written. you'll see :P

* * *

Sara gathered the necessities of her next appointment. She set the insulin shot aside next to the stethoscope and took a deep breath.

Michael would be walking in any minute now. What was worse, was that today he needed a full checkup. Which meant lots of physical contact.

Sitting down to wait for him, her mood was that of worry- the hours were counting down until Lincoln's execution. She opted not to mention that obvious fact to him, and only offer a kind voice if he brought the topic up.

She wanted to seem cheerful for him today-maybe a nice smile would help- but her sense of pity was too strong. She sometimes cursed it. Either way, she would try to act like it was another day and no-one was getting executed any time soon.

"This is going to be really hard."

He tried to walk as slowly as possible, trudging his feet and taking his time towards the infirmary.

Bellick would have none of it, as usual.

"Pick up the pace, Scofield!! What the hell's wrong with you? Sore from P.I?" he gave a sadistic chuckle and whacked Michael in the back, urging him forward.

Michael flinched only slightly at what would probably end up a bruise across the middle of his back, but continued his slow stride despite Bellick.

He entered the room silently, casting a wary glare as the cynical guard closed the door behind him.

When his eyes settled on Sara, they softened immediately. She was sitting down, shot in hand, her legs crossed in a lady-like manner that seemed different today.

He could tell instantly that she was trying to keep calm.

She was nervous?

About what?

The realization kicked in when pity flashed across her eyes.

She was trying not to upset him. Lincoln's execution was impending.

Too bad she had no idea it would never take place.

"Afternoon, Michael. Take a seat on the bed, you're due for a full exam today."

Michael's throat ran dry at her words. Bed. Full Exam. BAD.

This was hard enough as it was, dammit, and now he had to endure her touch. Everywhere.

He nodded, mumbling an "Afternoon, Doc." before hoisting himself onto the exam bed. When her glance went to his foot, he knew where they were starting.

"It's getting better. Have a look and see for yourself." he pulled the shoe and sock off together, and nearly jumped when she lightly took hold of his foot.

He wasn't ticklish. Not there anyway. But her touch was seductive, today, even while just focusing on a missing toe.

"Yes, it is healing up well. It doesn't hurt anymore?"

She nodded when he curtly shook his head "no".

"Good."

She administered the shot while he put the footwear back on one-handed, and he twitched, knowing what came next.

"Shirt up, please, Michael." He noticed she was being professional despite her nervous look. He grinned. So cute.

He decided to take a risk on this last-chance moment, and proceeded to pull the shirt completely off, giving her a "what?" look as her eyes widened slightly.

He watched her swallow, eye him suspiciously, and place the cold metal of the stethoscope to his chest.

Good. Cold is good…or it was, until her left hand settled on the skin right below his collarbone.

She wasn't touching his shoulder to brace herself this time.

This was intentional.

She was playing his game.

This exam couldn't end soon enough.


	3. Chapter 3

here are chap3!!! my eng102 teacher would slap me for that ;) lol

* * *

Michael froze when Sara's hand rested on his bare chest, and he suddenly felt exposed- curious, yet exposed. Her eyes were closed, and he knew she was pretending to listen to his heartbeat. It looked to him like she was trying to concentrate. 

He smirked. He had her distracted, and her fingers were ever-so-slightly flexing on his skin.

He knew it was against his better judgment to do this. This was NOT the way he wanted their last moments to be. His flirtation was getting him into trouble, and if he kept this up, he'd have an even harder time leaving her behind.

His mind kept repeating these facts. But his body was completely ignorant.

Sara's eyes were open now, and the stethoscope was making it's way around to his back. When the metal trailed slowly down his spine, he realized she was teasing him.

Yet by the looks of it, she was making a severe attempt to stop herself. Her eyes held uncertainty, and were averted from his own.

Their faces were close now; she leaned in towards his shoulder, her cheek brushing his neck.

He inhaled sharply- he knew there wasn't much use in fighting with himself.

"Breathe deep." Sara's voice startled him. He did as he was told, holding her gaze, challenging her.

She immediately let him know that she was up to it.

Her head lowered as he inhaled and let it out agonizingly slow, and her lips grazed his neck.

'This needs to stop, now!' His logical brain yelled in desperation.

Unfortunately, his physical need was quickly overpowering it.

He never expected it to be this hard to resist her. It was one of his greatest challenges while in Fox River.

He'd rather be surrounded by Abruzzi's goons right now, having another toe cut off.

"Sara…"

She cut him off, her voice quiet in his ear.

"Your breathing is strained. Have the other inmates been threatening you?"

He quickly remembered the dull pain in his back.

"Not the inmates, Doc. The guards seem to dislike me for some reason. But it's nothing I can't deal with." He turned his head to look into her eyes, watching them widen, a fierce spark shining in them.

"They've been beating you? Michael, why didn't you tell me?"

Suddenly her seductive mood switched to that of worry.

And, he sensed, a hint of protection.

He didn't want her to be concerned for him, despite the hot feeling he got in his stomach upon realizing that she was.

"It's nothing, just Bellick taking out his many frustrations on the prisoners. I just happen to be one of his favorite targets."

That did nothing to help settle her worries. In an instant her hands were roaming his torso, applying pressure as they journeyed across his chest.

"Where, Michael."

He sighed in both defeat and pleasure. Her tone was firm.

He complied, taking her hands and snaking them around his waist.

"My lower back. Bellick got me on the way in here."

His lips curved upwards at the angry look on her face.

She pressed against the now forming bruise that was accompanied by a large, slow forming whelp.

His breath caught, his teeth clenching. She gave him a look that said simply, "you should have told me, stupid".

"Lie down on your stomach, I need to have a look at that. And don't try to tell me that it's not necessary." Her words shook him.

'Oh, damn it to hell.'

He nodded despite his frustration.

"It's not, but I guess I have to follow doctor's orders, right?"

He faced away from her, trying to use this time of broken eye contact to focus and gather his composure.

He HAD to get out of this without completely screwing himself.

Or her.

Not half a second after he laid down, something wet, cold, and soothing was being rubbed onto the sore. Ointment.

If would have felt good regardless, but the way she was taking her time and trailing her fingers across his back was indescribable. It defiantly wasn't helping him concentrate. A particularly sensitive part of his body was screaming at him now.

Her hands soon left him, and a strange silence filled the room.

He sat up and turned towards her. She was wiping off the excess ointment, the look on her face telling him something he really did NOT need to know at that moment.

Her gaze was all over him. It skimmed down and briefly stopped.

She was going through the same torture he was.

Her lips were parted very slightly, and her breath was shallow. It seemed like she wanted to speak, but couldn't.

Michael knew she was about to tell him to go.

He wasn't going anywhere.

Not yet.


	4. Chapter 4

W00T! here's some M/S touch-touchy!

So warning to the Kids!! mild-moderate lime in thisun, and if u dont know, Lime indicates some mature content. Lemon indicates severe mature content. Lemon coming up in future chaps . yay

* * *

He saw her mouth open, and knew exactly what was about to be said.

In an instant Sara was silenced before she could even get a word out. His mouth covered hers, pushing against her in a sheer act of desperation and loss of control.

He felt her stiffen, her eyes wide, her hands clasping his forearms.

Initially it felt as if she was going to push him away, and a part of his mind was prepared for it.

Instead, after a few seconds of shock, her eyes closed and she slanted her head, responding with a small whimper of submission.

It did nothing to help his now primal urge to go all out, and take what he wanted.

There was still that voice, however, the one yelling in anger to pull back and walk away, to forget her and focus on what was really important.

'She IS important..'

Their oral dance continued as he accessed her mouth, biting her tongue gently to evoke a moan that sent a hot feeling pooling into his stomach and beyond.

His hands roamed her body, his brain taking in information about her every feature, from the softness and warmth of her skin to the curves that began with wonderfully perfect breasts.

Perfect, he thought, for him.

His eyes opened as they kissed and he watched her, focusing on the intense look on her face. He felt her exploring as well, running her delicate fingers over his bare chest, nails scraping lightly, making him groan.

It felt like an eternity had passed before they broke away, staring at each other in a mix of need and shock.

Just like that, the passion subsided.

And his mind started working again.

Apparently, by the now confused look Sara had on her face, hers was back to running too.

They stood in awkward and tense silence, breathing deep and heavy.

Sara was the first to speak.

"Michael…I think you need to go now, we…we're done here.

He nodded, expecting those exact words.

"Yeah…sure Doc." Michael shook his head slowly, recalling in detail what had just taken place, and the voice that was once being ignored was now being heard loud and clear.

He had probably made a big mistake. He'd probably just jeopardized the plan. He's just taken their once flirtatious relationship to a whole new level…or maybe 2 new levels, who knew.

That night he would get his brother and the others out of this shithole, and Lincoln would eventually be found innocent and exonerated, once Veronica came up with the evidence. Just as importantly, he would be getting Lincoln to L.J. That in itself was reason enough to suffer the pain of leaving Sara behind.

But at the same time, his conscience filled with guilt. Tonight he would betray her trust in him, and she could very well come to hate him for it.

It didn't matter, his feelings for her wouldn't change if she did.

And, he decided, he WOULD see her again. When his family was as safe as possible and he was able to risk it, he would find her.

Sara was looking away from him now, a look of self-disappointment engraved onto her features.

He didn't want her to regret this tonight. But he was sure she would, come tomorrow.

Michael strode quietly up to her, planting a quick, soft kiss on her flushed cheek.

"Bye, Sara."

She didn't respond. He wondered if she noticed the hint of sadness in his voice.

Walking out the door and towards his cell, his brain continued to replay the image of the woman that had come to consume it.

Yes…he would see her again…perhaps sooner rather than later.


	5. Chapter 5

mmk, this chap takes place after the breakout. since it was written before i actually saw the breakout ep, i used my imagination, so, its pretty much AU from here on. hope ya like tho .

* * *

It was far too soon.

It had only been a little over nine weeks.

Lincoln had yet to be exonerated.

He was risking so much.

His brother, his nephew, Veronica…himself. Everything.

But he couldn't wait. It was as if he was being pulled towards her by something he couldn't see or even comprehend.

Need.

He needed this- to see her, hear her, ask her to forgive him. Feel yet again what he had felt for that brief yet lingering moment in the infirmary.

Her touch.

He had wanted it to be different. He pictured a small restaurant, or the park. He'd even seen them meeting on the beach in Mexico in his mind's eye.

Not like this. Stealing around in the dead of night, dressed head-to-toes in black, trying to conceal himself.

He hadn't pictured himself in standing in front of her apartment door at 2 o'clock in the morning, scanning the empty halls while quietly picking the lock with a pocket knife.

No…it wasn't supposed to be like this.

But he had been pulled here-to her- regardless of that fact.

A soft click from the lock sounded in the silent hall. Michael flinched momentarily and darted one last look down the corridors before turning the handle and slipping inside.

He stepped into darkness, his only source of light coming dimly orange from the streetlights outside the window of the living room.

He didn't move. Not yet. He listened, waiting for any evidence that she would have been woken by his entry.

He only heard his own restrained breathing.

Navigating through the darkness of the mid-sized apartment, Michael worked his way down the hall. He passed the extra room, taking in the dim outline of a few small bookshelves. His intense eyesight caught the titles of a few medical books and suspense novels, as well as what appeared to be old notebooks from medical school. A desk equipped with a computer caught his attention as well, before he returned his focus on the half-open door of her bedroom.

The door creaked slightly as he entered. He kept Sara's sleeping form in sight. She didn't move.

Standing at the foot of her bed, Michael sucked in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of vanilla bubble-bath and body lotion. Another ray of light shone in from the window to the left of the room, falling just over the bottom half of the bed. It was enough for him to make out the features he'd longed to see ever since his escape from Fox River Penitentiary.

He couldn't help but smile warmly at Sara's sleeping position. Curled up on her side, faced away from the light, her hair strewn loosely across the pillows.

He couldn't help but want to touch.

He bent over her slowly, carefully reaching out, his hand barely brushing the soft skin of her face.

A sigh escaped him as his fingers met the feeling of silk that was her hair.

Tucking a few rebellious strands behind her ear, Michael froze when she stirred. A soft sound of contentment escaped her throat before she turned over in her sleep, away from the man now letting out contained breath behind her.

Michael suddenly wondered what he was supposed to do next. Wake her?

It was late, and she had to work the next day. If he woke her now, she would probably not get back to sleep.

Whether she would be yelling at him or, as he preferred, forgiving him, Sara would most definitely NOT be sleeping anymore that night.

He also considered simply leaving. He came to see her, and he had.

He could come back another night and visit her again…

No.

He wouldn't become a stalker. He would rather shake her awake and endure hours of verbal abuse at how he'd used and hurt her than end up turning himself into an obsessive night-watcher.

He lowered himself onto the side of the bed, sitting just on the edge. Rubbing his temple, he looked back to see if she'd felt his movement.

He cherished the fact that her body was now in the deepest stage of sleep.

Or he had THOUGHT such, until he looked down and saw her right hand gripping the blankets, trembling very slightly. She was still turned from him, but he knew her face had to be twisted into pure fear. He could certainly understand why…she had no idea who it was in her room, on her bed, watching her in the dead of night.

Her breathing became erratic. Michael knew he needed to speak up before she panicked.

His hand stilled hers. Her entire body jumped.

"Sara…"

Her body stilled immediately, and her head whipped around to look at him.

Her eyes first held a glint of confusion, probably coming to terms with what was going on and trying to focus in the dark room.

She rubbed her eyes quickly, and looked him over.

He watched her confusion turn to anger. And the one thing he least wanted to see in her…fear.

"Michael…what…what the hell are you doing here?" Her voice was low and held evidence of what her eyes were telling him.

Instead of answering, he leaned toward the table beside her bed and clicked on the lamp, filling the room with an unusually bright light. He blinked and turned away from it to look at her, a smirk forming on his face.

"I think you're using too high of a watt bulb in that thing, Sara. You could burn the building down, and I'd hate to be the one doctoring on YOU…"

His humor came smoothly, but her eyes grew sharp and he knew it had no affect on her. In fact, it only seemed to anger her more.

"Answer my question, Michael, what are you doing in my apartment?"

The seductive, submissive woman he had found himself locked in passion with in the infirmary seemed far, far away. In her place, he saw an angry, hurt, bitter shell.

He wouldn't let her chase him away. He couldn't. He needed her to forgive him and, if nothing else, give him closure.

He WANTED forgiveness and understanding…but closure would be better than nothing.

"Sara, I'm here because-" He stopped when her eyes grew wide.

"HOW did you get in here Michael? Did you break into my apartment? "

More anger. More fear.

'No, no fear Sara…please, hate me, but don't be afraid of me..'

He nodded solemnly.

"Yes. I broke in. I had to. I'm sorry, Sara, but I had to see you. I needed to talk to you, to see how you were. I've been…worried."

He prayed to a God he hadn't spoke to in a LONG time that she would hear the sincerity in his voice.

Her face softened only a fraction, as if she was battling herself over how to feel.

"You don't need to worry about me. I've been fine, trying to work in the aftermath of your little show at Fox River. All of my patients want to know how you did it. And all of the guards-and Pope- want to know if I knew anything about it. Bellick especially. He's given me endless hell. But I'm fine, Michael, thank you."

Sarcasm dripped from every word.

Michael lowered his head and dropped his gaze from her.

"You don't have to believe that my brother is innocent. But I do. I didn't mean to do this to you Sara. If you're thinking that what happened between us was a ploy to distract you, I'll tell you right now that you're thinking wrong. Don't judge me like that. I did a lot of things in there. I played a lot of people. Even you, in the beginning. But that day…that moment….that was me, Sara. That was me saying goodbye and soaking up a memory just in case I never saw you again."

Michael stopped and waited. Glancing up to look at her, his eyes widened and he nearly gasped.

While he had been looking away, Sara had reached for a cell phone. Her thumb rested on the buttons and she stared at him with a mix of every emotion in existence. A tear formed in her eye and threatened to fall.

Had she even heard anything he'd said?

For the first time ever, he was angry at Sara Tancredi.

And he was going to let her know before her fingers dialed 911.


	6. Chapter 6

weeee, last chap ppl! not only is this the longest chap of a fic i've ever written, it's also the one i wish i could go back and do over again. the char's get a lil OOC in this chappy, cuz i was desperate to finish the fic up. but on a better note, there's plenty of M/S intimacy! Lemon ppl, so watch out young ones! plz R&R!!

* * *

Deep in what was left of Michael's reason, he knew what Sara was doing was justified.

He was a fugitive. She worked in a prison. NOT calling the police could be deemed aiding an escaped convict.

Still, disappointment and desperation raged through him, clouding his better judgment. Images of what took place in the infirmary flashed in his mind, and he felt betrayed.

She had yet to push a button, but her finger was dangerously close.

She shook her head and tears streamed down her face in silent apology.

She dialed. He snapped.

The phone was snatched from her hand before she could blink, and tossed against a wall, where it proceeded to fall apart with a loud crack.

Michael's vision was blurry, but he saw the terror on her face as he grabbed her wrists and pulled her against him, crashing their bodies together to stare intensely into her eyes.

He didn't speak. He didn't know what to say. Part of him wanted to ask her what the fuck she was thinking, and another longed to plead for forgiveness at his sudden onslaught.

Her lips formed a tight line and she closed her eyes.

Her body trembled.

She thought he was going to hurt her.

His anger disappeared immediately, and guilt slapped him in the face at the sight of her fear.

He had never acted this way towards a woman. Then again, he had never cared for a woman like he did for Sara. If he didn't care, he wouldn't have felt so betrayed.

His vice grip on her wrists loosened.

He released her and watched her eyes open cautiously.

"Sara, I'm so sorry. I don't know why I… it doesn't matter. I'm going." His voice was a shaky whisper and he raised his hands in a show of surrender, letting her know he didn't intend to touch her again.

Her breathing, which had been erratic, slowed and she gazed at the broken cell phone across the room.

She looked at him as he stood and backed away.

"Were you going to hurt me Michael?" It was more of a statement than a question. She already knew the answer.

He noted that her voice no longer held much fear…only curiosity.

He felt his teeth grit.

She made no effort to move away from him as he leaned forward to lay a hand on her cheek and look her dead in the eyes.

"I'd rather die."

For the first time since he'd arrived, Sara looked at him without anger. Her face had softened. She nodded, and he knew she believed him.

He stood and walked to her bedroom door.

Without turning, he paused.

"I'm sorry for this. If you pick up the phone the minute I leave, I'd understand. I never meant to scare you…or hurt you. I know I did Sara, when I broke out. I came here to ask you to forgive me. But it's too much to ask of you."

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he headed down the hall.

If this was the way it would end between them, so be it. He tried, and he'd messed it up. He hadn't felt this broken since Lincoln's conviction.

He had caused enough trouble for her. Besides that, he was certain Lincoln was losing his mind wondering where he had suddenly disappeared to. Michael hadn't told anyone where he was going. He'd simply left in the middle of the night.

He forced himself not to look back down the hallway as he neared the living room…

"Michael!"

He stopped in mid-step. He looked back to see her standing in the doorway.

His heart sounded in his ears when he saw her eye him warily and he noticed her attempt not to smile.

"You scared the shit out of me you know, sneaking into my room and sitting on my bed at two in the morning. Not to mention you destroyed my cell phone. And now you actually have the audacity to walk away without making up for it?"

He swallowed hard. He didn't think that little farewell speech would have THIS kind of a result.

A moment ago she was ready to call the cops on him, and now she was…flirting?

He would never understand what went on in a woman's head.

Must be the hormones…

Grinning, he took an experimental step in her direction.

Lincoln could wait a few more minutes…or hours…

"And what exactly did you have in mind Doc?"

If she tried to snap at him for the innuendo, he could always throw her the "you started it" line.

"Well, seeing as how my home phone is in the living room, and you're blocking access to it, I guess I can't turn you in, can I? And I'm not letting you leave until you pay for breaking in, scaring me half to death, and wrecking my property."

Her small grin clashed with the glint of uncertainty he recognized in her eyes. She was doubting this sudden turn of events, he knew. After all, she had always been a person of reason.

But she was also human. And of the opposite sex. And, according to what had taken place between them over two months ago, attracted to him. Possibly in love with him. In fact…it was more probable than possible. He hoped so, anyway.

He started slowly in her direction, backing her through the door and into the room. She continued backwards, holding his gaze, until they met the wall.

He made no move to touch her, instead reveling in the feeling that set his insides ablaze when her stare lowered to his lips.

The atmosphere in the room changed completely. Anger and frustration turned to a very familiar feeling of need almost immediately. Michael definitely preferred this to the way things had started out.

Before anything else, he wanted to rid her of that doubtful look.

Lowering his lips to her ear, he breathed against it and felt her involuntarily shudder.

"Well, I guess I have a lot of work to do, don't I?"

His grin widened to a smile when her body shivered in response.

His head traveled farther down to her shoulder, and he finally brought his hands out of his jean pockets to rest on her hips.

"I'm a convict Sara. The robbery was staged but the government still sees me as a dangerous man. Tell me to leave."

He was giving her one last chance to push him away.

He almost regretted even saying it. He didn't want her to tell him to go. He didn't want to go anywhere.

But it would be unfair to take advantage of her apparently mixed emotions without giving her a way out.

He refrained from lifting his head to look at her. Her breath was ragged and her body was stiff against his as she spoke quietly.

"I don't know, Michael. I don't know what I want. I don't want you to leave. But I don't want to be involved in…this. I don't want to lose my job. But I don't want to lose you."

He nodded against her shoulder. It was a tough choice. As tough as the one he'd made to come and see her that night. But she needed to choose.

"If you tell me to leave now, I won't see you again. You can end any involvement with me. But if you tell me to stay, I'll do everything I can to make sure no-one ever knows about it. I can't make promises on that, but I have connections. I'd try."

He listened to her sigh, and heard the thump of the back of her head against the wall as she considered his words. He waited with a born patience.

Her voice came clearer this time, making sure he could hear.

"Stay. But promise that you'll explain everything to me, and when all of this is over with, you'll contact me. I don't do one-night stands, Michael."

He smiled into the skin of her neck.

"Neither do I."

The hands resting on her hips squeezed and pulled them forward to bump against his. He relished the sound of her gasp.

He'd missed it.

Michael didn't know when he would see her again after this night.

He wanted to give her a memory worth holding onto until his return.

He hadn't expected to be doing this when he decided to visit her, but he wouldn't argue with himself…he wanted it.

He'd wanted it since he first felt her body pressed against his in Fox River.

He'd even admit that the thought had briefly flashed in his mind during the riot, when he helped down from the ducts they'd crawled through from the smoking infirmary. And that was before he realized that his feelings toward her were deep.

It had been a moment of physical attraction.

Now that it was coupled with a warm feeling that gripped his heart at the mere thought of her, he was far past simple flirtation.

And he wanted her to know it.

Any question as to whether or not they were really going to go through with this was thrown out the window when Sara pushed his shirt over his head in desperation and her lips skimmed across the skin of his throat, coming to a halt at his collarbone.

A groan vibrated in his chest when her tongue trailed along it lazily.

Michael had never seen her like this. She had been flirtatious at times during their appointments, but this was pure seduction at it's best.

A twinge of jealousy struck him as he wondered where she'd learned this type of torture.

Another deep sound from his throat-only this time more of a growl, caused her to stop and look up at him.

Her smirk told him she thought he was trying to be overdramatic. She didn't catch the look of possessiveness in his eyes.

Pressing her closer against the wall, he turned the tables on the good doctor gone-bad and took an earlobe between his teeth, applying just enough pressure to evoke a submissive whimper.

Thoughts of her touching another man still haunted his mind, although he knew it no longer mattered. She was touching HIM now. Even so, a protective urge that he had never felt before consumed him, driving him to push his hips into hers with force.

His lips lingered at her ear, and his voice came in low whisper as he spoke more to himself than to her.

"Mine."

He smiled when her head nodded lazily in response; she probably hadn't heard him at all. He had the advantage now.

The thought thrilled him in a way he'd never known before this night.

Sara definitely had the ability to do things to him that no other woman had been able to do.

Maybe he was in love with her. Chances were he was. But telling her now would be more harmful than anything. He would leave her after this night, and not return for God knew how long.

When he finally came back, if she had waited for him as she said she would, he would say it.

For now, it would remain an unspoken truth.

Their clothes were falling to the floor before he even realized it, hands roaming every square inch of the other's body the moment skin was revealed.

They stood bare in front of each other now, breaths coming quick and ragged, the intensity in the room so thick it was nearly suffocating him.

Michael had never made love to a woman against a wall before. He'd always wanted to try it when the right woman came along.

Sara fit perfectly to his body, and he couldn't imagine doing this with anyone else.

His lips were pressed forcefully into hers as he made his entry, his tongue stealing its way into her mouth as she gasped.

One thrust told him she hadn't done this in some time-her gasp became a pained cry against his neck.

He stilled and brought a hand to her cheek, turning her head up to look at her.

He barely heard himself speak, his voice lost to a shortness of breath.

"You okay?"

After what seemed like minutes, she nodded. The moment her lips mouthed the words "I'm fine", he took another experimental movement in her.

Her breathing hitched, but she pushed back in encouragement, sending him falling back into his little world of indulgence.

Michael soon found that despite her rustiness in the matter, Sara wasn't the type to just stand there and take it.

Every time he moved, she responded, quickly creating a rhythm that threatened to make his mind stop working altogether.

It never occurred to him that the sounds of their passion could most likely be heard on the other side of the wall, and Sara would probably receive a complaint or two from whomever lived in the apartment adjacent to hers.

If she noticed, she really didn't care.

Michael pushed into her with blind need, feeling his knees weakening and his body shudder as his climax neared.

Sara's scream broke through the sound of his own and he barely had the strength to hold her up when her legs went out from under her.

Silence filled the room after the searing heat of their orgasm ended.

Sara wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him for support while she waited for her body to recover.

Michael placed sloppy kisses up her neck, finally reaching her mouth to claim it in a long union.

After minutes of complete stillness, he finally found his voice, and it cracked very slightly as he spoke.

"Thanks for….not calling the police…again." He smiled at her soft chuckle.

"You were blocking my way into the den, remember? And besides, I didn't want you destroying the only other phone in the house."

Exhausted laughter eased the tension before Michael looked over at the clock beside Sara's bed.

Five a.m would be drawing near soon, and he knew he needed to get back before Lincoln had a panic attack.

After handing Sara her clothes, he began redressing, the sadness of leaving her once again finally sinking in.

Watching her tie the strings of her pajama pants, he reached out to help pull the nightshirt over her head, grinning as her hair fell into her face.

Now both fully clothed, they stood in the middle of the room, caught in an embrace that marked his promise to her.

"It'll be morning soon; I gotta go."

She nodded in understanding, but said nothing. Her eyes focused away from him, until he took her face in his hands to give one last kiss before stepping out of her arms.

"I'll contact you as soon as I can, Sara. I'll see you again, I promise."

Walking to the door he paused momentarily when she quietly cleared her throat to get his attention. Turning his head to look at her, he saw her lips form a sad smile.

" I believe you, Michael. But next time, could you do me a favor? Knock."

He returned her smile and gave her a "OK" before heading out of he room, down the hall, and out the door.

He had no idea when he would see Sara again. It could be weeks, months, maybe years. He hadn't wanted to ask her to wait for him. But he had. And she'd agreed.

All he could do was keep his promise to come back, and see for himself if she kept hers to wait.


End file.
